Chapter 53: The Homebody Takes Action

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"Qingling, what were you two talking about just now?" As Qingling Meirong approached, Kanae Terashima came up to ask.

"Nothing, nothing at all."

Qingling Meirong had calmed herself, but a faint blush still lingered on her delicate face.

Seeing her like this, Kanae Terashima exchanged a glance with Mai Hanai, and the answer in their hearts grew clearer.

"Qing... Qingling, you didn't agree to her, did you?" Kanae Terashima asked cautiously.

Qingling Meirong looked at the two of them in confusion. "Agree to what?"

Under the cherry blossom tree, Yuriko Ogata kept her eyes tightly closed, awaiting judgment. Death itself was not frightening, but the wait for death was agonizing.

Right now, little Yuriko was in that state. Her long lashes trembled gently, her two small, fair hands clenched into fists at her chest, making her look pitiful, weak, and helpless.

After waiting for ages, she realized the sensation of falling she feared hadn't come. Carefully, she opened one big eye, as if a terrifying creature stood before her, blinking her right eye gingerly. Then both eyes opened wide in curiosity, and she glanced around.

In front of her was only empty space—no Qingling Meirong, no one else, just cherry blossoms drifting gently down.

Eh? Where was everyone?

Yuriko Ogata tilted her head, bewildered by the scene before her.

Leaving the office, Haruhi Harano took a deep breath and headed straight back to the classroom.

The moment he reached the door, he spotted the beautiful blonde girl sitting in a chair, gazing at him with a look of plaintive resentment.

She looked just like a little, wronged wife.

Her shapely legs, clad in black stockings, were crossed tightly together, catching the sunlight with a delicate sheen. Her calves were slender and toned, her thighs rounded and softly plump, and the way her legs crossed formed a dark, alluring line. The squeeze of her thighs aroused the urge to reach out and knead them.

Pity her feet, encased in black stockings, were not exposed; the white canvas shoes hid them completely.

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Even so, it was impossible to look away, as if one's eyes were glued there.

Haruhi Harano only spared her a sidelong glance, then returned to his seat with an air of indifference.

He really didn't see the appeal.

As for Qingling Meirong's resentful gaze, he ignored it entirely. What was the big deal?

Every time Miss Qingling used her feet, she wore the same expression—sometimes even tinged with disdain. But when paired with that blushing face, it was truly a sight to behold!

No harm in being looked at a few times. If she wants to look, so be it; and as for tonight, things would proceed as usual.

He met Qingling Meirong’s eyes deeply. What had they been talking about downstairs just now?

Seeing Haruhi Harano daring to look at her, Qingling Meirong widened her eyes in return, glaring fiercely.

The bell rang for class as the Japanese literature teacher entered the room, yet Yuriko Ogata's seat remained empty.

Everyone couldn't help glancing at Qingling Meirong. After all, everyone knew that Yuriko had left during the break with Miss Qingling, yet only one had returned.

Could it be...?

"Isn't there a student missing?" The teacher, noticing the discrepancy, asked, "Does anyone know where that student went?"

The students looked at each other in silence.

Yoshiyuki Etou was an unremarkable student in the class—average looks, a bit of an otaku, average grades, average athletic ability, the textbook definition of a background character.

Despite being an otaku, he had his own real-life goddess: Yuriko Ogata.

Cute, with a soft, gentle voice, extremely shy, and prone to blushing, Yuriko Ogata was the living image of the well-behaved younger sister from an anime.

She was the softest spot in Yoshiyuki Etou's otaku heart. He had fantasized about a beautiful, understated romance with Yuriko, the kind of love story where the unnoticed boy wins the heart of the quietly lovely girl.

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As a teenage boy, he followed the plot of every anime, firmly believing that opportunity was something to be awaited, not created.

Two months had passed, and in all that time, the love-stricken Yoshiyuki Etou hadn't spoken a single word to Yuriko Ogata.

Yes, in the two months since school started, they’d had no interaction at all. If they passed on the street, Yuriko might find him vaguely familiar at best, but probably didn’t even know his name.

Today, when Yuriko Ogata suddenly became entangled with the school’s notorious delinquent girl, it should have been his moment as a man to step forward. Perhaps he could have won her heart by rescuing her in a classic beauty-in-peril scene.

But in the end, seeing the intimidating way Mai Hanai and Kanae Terashima confronted the situation, he lost his nerve. His heart pounded wildly, and he could only watch as Yuriko Ogata and Qingling Meirong walked away.

Maybe they really did have something to discuss? He tried to console himself with that thought, and the more he thought about it, the more plausible it seemed—after all, Yuriko had approached Qingling to talk.

But now things were different. Yuriko still hadn't returned, the teacher was asking questions, and the whole class was silent. Yoshiyuki Etou felt he had to do something, to break this oppressive silence!

His chuunibyou spirit ignited at once. In his eyes, Qingling Meirong became a beautiful witch, and his role was to stand up, shout a declaration of victory, shatter the darkness, and awaken everyone’s true selves!

Even if it meant he'd face wild retribution, or even sacrifice himself, it all felt worth it!

Glancing one last time at the "evil witch," Yoshiyuki Etou gritted his teeth, made up his mind, and prepared to stand and shout out loud!

The "evil witch" Qingling Meirong simply snorted dismissively, propping her chin on her hand and gazing out the window.

A gentle breeze swept through her golden hair, revealing her exquisite profile—a sight that made hearts skip a beat.

Clatter! The scraping of a chair rang out as everyone looked over. Yoshiyuki Etou had shot to his feet, hands braced on the desk, head bowed as if gathering strength for a finishing move.

Haruhi Harano watched with interest. He knew this guy—just another background character like he once was, probably an otaku from the anime club.

But seeing him now, he exuded the aura of an anime protagonist about to make a move.